The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. So Michelle’s plans were to out her in front of an audience. You're easy to please. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself.
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